One Night Only
by MetaMorphoSer
Summary: A crazy loveless night, crossing six people's destinies. Mariam, Mariah and Salima got picked up by Crusher, Enrique and Miguel. Can a simple night stand satisfy the needs of a lonely heart?
1. Chapter 1

**One night Only**

Chapter 1.

There's nothing as cold as an empty queen-sized bed, Mariam decided as she huddled against herself on the edge of her bed. The other side seemed like an infinite ocean of ice, impossible to break.

The night song rode steadily into her room, casting the furniture in a shadow. She widened her legs apart, subconsciously the feeling of death rising in her heart. Her hand crept towards her groins, beneath the thin blanket. She ducked her fingers within herself and heard herself sigh. Was it out of weariness or slight satisfaction?

Her legs twisted uncontrollably and her breasts swelled under her silk nightgown. Her breath became irregular. She bit her lips, trying not to cry.

At last, she was a little bit warmer.

I don't know why I'm doing this. Why I even think it would cure. I am sitting with Mariah and Salima on a couch in the club, sipping white wine after sharing a bottle of Malibu. Forget? Oh baby, there's no way to forget. Celebrate? What the Hell is there to celebrate? End of school. Yeah that sounds nice but what about the dark hole within me, the sudden revelation I had on Sunday?

I knock my cigarette on the ashtray then take a new puff.

"This club sucks," Mariah's voice float through my head.

"What do you expect? It's Wednesday night," Salima retorts. "No one in their right mind comes out on a Wednesday night."

"We carry bad omen."

"We can get going before midnight to catch the last train," Salima points out as if it was an answer to our lack of luck.

"Are you okay, Mariam?"

I jump. Their voices seem so exterior they barely hit me while I let my gaze fall on a guy sitting with his back towards us, wearing a Nobu shirt. I was thinking of what a loser that guy should be, wearing his work uniform to a club before my thoughts are interrupted.

"Yeah, sure. No problem."

The few dancers on the dance floor block the Nobu guy from my view. I don't have a choice but turn back to my friends.

"I'm so bored," I join in the useless conversation.

"Don't worry, next time we can go to a gay club if you want to," Mariah grins at me.

Yeah right, _that_. Now it's not like I tend to forget but it's not quite a reflex yet. How can you incorporate something you've just decided you might as well admit as recently as Sunday? I'm handling it badly, I fear it might be a mistake but I don't know. It's all so wearing to think about following things like this. It's almost like a principle you have to follow: you're straight, run after guys; you're gay, run after gays. I've always hated principles, I don't think I'm going to follow one now. But it's not like I have a choice. You don't choose your sex after all. But I'm blabbing. I just have this difficulty of keeping to my surrounding. Sometimes I just want to stop you know, _being_.

I don't know what my girlfriends think of my being lesbian. I wonder whether Mariah recalls the times she changed, naked, in my room, showing me her breasts. Or, Salima talking endless boys' conversation with me. I've coped with the two situations fine, I guess, since neither had the slightest doubt on my sexuality. Though I must admit, the first one was harder to cope with. Mariah has amazing boobs. Generous. Round. I pretty much am jealous of her boyfriends but I've never really desired her. But Sunday. Oh, how I was fucked up on Sunday. If my parents have known. I have succeeded in one single day to shatter the base of good society moral. And the outcome is a life-long revolt against Nature, for my own.

"You girls come here often?"

I regret raising my gaze on the speaker. Talk about bad luck. I don't know whether my body expresses the repulsion I feel within. The Ugliness with a capital U doesn't recoil whatsoever. I long for my i-Pod and more cigarettes. Why does Mariah have to be so nice as to letting him sit beside us? Pure puking sight in a Hawaiien shirt and shorts. Trying to show off his hairy legs?

Comes by the name of Crusher. Says he's Brazilian. Marian pats the seat next to her and I got up to sit with her. Poor Salima. Too bad. I'm not dealing with him.

"We're so unlucky," Mariah whispers to me, "Brazilians are hot and all we've got is _him_."

I snort.

"I don't care. I'll tell him I'm lesbian and he'll fly."

Bad news though, Crusher has friends he wonder if they can join us.

"Hope they're not as ugly as he is," I say as I knock the cigarette.

Suddenly the Ugliness move from Salima to me. Shit.

"Hey, why are you all so quiet?"

Cause I don't want to waste my breath on a puking face like yours.

"I'm just tired."

"Do you want a drink."

Okay, why not? This is what I usually do anyway when an ugly guy chats me up. Poor souls. They don't know what they're playing with. Mariah and Salima arch their eyebrows as I let myself being led by the Ugliness towards the bar.

"What do you want?

"Desperado."

Even before I could take a sip, he pulls me close. Revulsion and indignation fill my chest. Who the fuck does he think he is?

"What do you say if I invite you to Brazil with me?"

Putrid breath.

My astonishment quickly gives way to horror however when he puts his hand on mine and touches my ear with his fat nose.

"I think I'm in love with you."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

I seriously don't understand how love works. A spark or a flame igniting one's heart at the immediate sight of another or born only after long apprehension? I decide that this guy is not for real and hopefully so because I don't feel the slightest bit the same way. He would have said, "I like beer" and I would probably felt the same. But of course the words "I'm in love with you" are not what you say everyday to everyone. But it seems that Ugliness is really to play anything for a little bit of fuck. That at least can easily be perceived.

"Thanks, but no thanks," I push him away and grabbing my glass of beer in one hand, I march off to find my friends.

Interesting what is happening to me right now. I began the evening with the decision of being lesbian and now hey, a guy just said he's in love with me! The Ugliness himself too. Aren't I just lucky? I don't know why I attract these kinds of pervs.

"Hey, girls, manage to shake fatso away," I say, sitting down.

But strangely Mariah's and Salima's eyes seem to be glued to the air behind me.

"Excuse me? Are you alright?"

I turn to where they were staring and notice that Ugliness is right behind me. But this time he isn't alone. Two other guys are with him. And I must say…

"Girls, these are my friends…"

Excuse me? What is an ugly toad doing with two, seriously wayyyy-better-looking guys-if-not-hot? The one with beige hair sits down next to Salima and the blonde one next to Mariah. When he walked past me, I recognize the Nobu logo shirt. Can you believe this? The Nobu guy is actually hot? Forget what I've said at the beginning.

I'm left to sit on the plush near the sofa, however with Ugliness beside me. This is just shit. I drain my glass of beer. Mariah winks at me, over the blonde guy's shoulder, already stirring a conversation. Well, at least he doesn't seem like he needs to use the "I'm in love with you" thing to get her going.

"Dance with me," Ugliness urges.

I glare at him.

But he's so thick, the message didn't go through. Instead, he catches my elastic and pulls it off.

"Hey!"

"Oh, you look so much more beautiful like this," he says, his eyes gleaming. "I fell in love with you with your hair tied up, but now… it's even more!"

I feel like I wanna puke on his piggy face. I stare at him blankly for s second then I turn towards Mariah and the guy.

"Hi," I say cheerfully, "Do you like Japanese cuisine?"

He turns his crystal blue gaze on me. Dreamy? No, playful. Interesting kind of guy. Plenty of charm.

"What?" he asks over the music.

I lean close to his ear and repeat my stupid but only question I can think of.

"Of course, I have a lot at my work," he turns slightly his back to show me his shirt.

Italian accent, I hear?

"What's your name, anyway?" I ask.

"Enrique."

Flashes a grin.

"Hey, can I have some of your beer?"

"Sure, if you can find some left."

Mariah gives me a knowing smile when she reaches out to take my empty glass. Okay, I know I'm lesbian but a little bit of fun won't hurt, will it?

"Can you tell your friend to leave me alone?"

Leaning forward, hoping he would notice my cleavage. If I have any that is. Fuck the diet. It sure works on my stomach but my breast just go down as well.

"He's nice, don't worry about that," he smiles, running his fingers through his thick blonde hair.

His left hand wanderstowards Mariah's shoulders and pulls her close. Okay, thanks for the signal.

"Come on, let's dance."

I find myself being dragged by Ugliness to the dance floor.

"Take your filthy hands off me!"

Instead, he puts _my_ hands around his neck. Um, doesn't he feel being a slightly pushy? I've danced with ugly old guys before. Like this Indian guy with a fat belly who refused to take off his mackintosh when it's burning inside the club? It was the most disgusting experience ever. His fat greedy hands touching my boobs, thinking I would enjoy that. Seriously, don't they look at themselves in the mirror once a while?

I throw a pleading look over at my girlfriends but Salima was too engrossed in conversation with the beige-haired guy. Thank God, Mariah returns my glance with a smile. Does she think I'm happy doing this? Enrique grins at me as well. Can he understand my distress at least?

The song finally ends. I break off immediately with fatso. At that point, Mariah walks up to me and takes hold of my hand.

Thank God!

I put my arms on her shoulders and shake my hips. Surprisingly, she joins the game, rolling her body against mine. OK, that's kinda hot. I can make out the outline of her boobs under the skimpy décolleté. No wonder Enrique can't take his eyes off her. If she wasn't my friend, then I would love to go down on her. Drunk, am I? Or simply lesbian?

I laugh as the other guys are trying to join us. I shove my thigh between hers and run my hands across her hips. Girls' exclusivity. That's what I love. Why isn't every girl on the planet lesbian or at least bi, just to feel the experience of total independence for a while. Every man is after all gay, just see Ancient Greece for reference.

Enrique suddenly joins us. I don't really care. A hot guy is worth a girl. I put an arm around his neck and the other on Mariah's. After the song, Mariah lets go of us. Enrique takes me by the hips.

"You dance well for a waiter," I whisper in his ears.

I don't think the song is slow, but suddenly he is holding me close. I can feel his breath on my cheeks as I nuzzle my head against his neck, smelling his evaporating cologne. It wasn't an unpleasant experience. His lips search mine. Fuck me but this is the first time I'm kissing someone while dancing. A rush of contentment. For once, I'm the one kissing a hottie, isn't it? Guy or girl. Same difference. His tongue penetrates my mouth, but instead of staying inside, he sems to be dripping all over my mouth.

That. Is. Irksome.

A hottie who can't kiss but we still forgive.

His hands catch my butt. I don't feel anything, though except the same kind of self-satisfaction. I decide to play along, ruffling the hair on the back of his neck and kissing it ardently.

We finally break apart. He smiles down at me, his blue eyes twinkling. I can't believe I've just kissed a total stranger after swearing oath to lesbianship. Well, not really but I _did_ thought that I won't be in contact with the opposite sex again.

"There's an after party at our house later on. You wanna come with your girlfriends?" he asks softly despite the music, tucking a strand behind my ear.

Why not? Okay, Mariah and Salima would freak out. But I don't have anything else to do. Plus, it's not like I've never been to a stranger's house.

"I don't know. I've got to ask my girlfriends."

I catch up with Mariah and Salima but find that Salima has found a new occupation. She is glued to the beige-haired guy I didn't even bother to find out the name. She is so bent towards the sofa that the guy has to stand over her. So much conversation must have tired them.

Not too soon.

I grab Mariah's hand and tell her what Enrique proposed me.

"If we go to their house, it means that we have to fuck with them. And _I_ already have a boyfriend, remember?"

"Yeah, but so what? It can be fun."

Mariah looks at me uncomfortably.

"Think about it okay? I've gotta piss."

The toilet is thankfully empty. I hope that the girl Enrique saw on the dance floor is dark and sexy. Unfortunately the toilet mirror shows me otherwise. My eyeliner is all smeared and my face as pale as snow. Great, whatever. At least he kissed me looking like this.

I walk back to the couches. Enrique is slurping on Mariah. So much for a girl who has a boyfriend. I guess he's got her convinced too.

Ugliness suddenly emerges from nowhere and touches my shoulder.

"Ready for the champagne, baby?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

I hate to say how used I feel. I know perfectly well that Enrique doesn't kiss me because he prefers me but it's just because Mariah won't let him at first. Do I look that desperate? Why do I feel like jumping on a guy when all I can care about is for him not to touch my friends' boobs?

We cram into a taxi, the six of us. It's way past midnight. Mariah doesn't seem happy about it. Wonder why since she gets her share of kissing too, Miss Loyalty.

"I was drunk, okay?" Mariah whispers to me. "Still I don't like it when he's treating me like a slut."

We are sitting at the back seat while Enrique, Salima and the beige-haired guy sit in the front of us and Crusher aka the Ugliness sits next to the driver.

"So, say _I'm_ the slut," I retort back.

She rolls her eyes.

"You're just crazy, that's all. You do what you do."

"I'm so lonely!"

Suddenly, Enrique reaches out his hand to catch my leg.

We squeal.

The beige-haired guy turns and laughs at us, his arm draped comfortably on Salima's shoulders. It's a miracle they've even drawn apart for one minute.

"_Chichi."_

I stare at him.

"What did you just say?"

"_Chichi._ That's 'thank you' in Chinese isn't it? Sorry, it's the only thing I know how to say."

Both Mariah and I lift our eyebrows.

"I'm Chinese so I can tell you that 'thank you' is _xiexie_ in Chinese," Mariah tells him.

"And I'm Japanese so I can tell you that the word you've been saying to every Chinese actually means 'breasts' in Japanese."

We all burst out laughing at the poor boy whose face drooped at his own mistake.

"_Mierda_! _No sabia que 'chichi' significa pechos en cines."_

He starts speaking Spanish to Enrique.

Great for us. We're completely lost.

"Thanks a lot for excluding us," Salima snaps.

The guys stop immediately.

"So, no Spanish for you?" Enrique grins at us.

"Yeah so you can be plotting to kidnap us and we won't even know," I say.

"Where are we going anyway?" Mariah inquires.

"Oh, not far from here," Enrique shrugs.

Not far proves out to be the suburbs. We watch the tall sky-scrapers give way to small houses with front lawns. Mariah becomes agitated but what can we do anyway? The taxi stops at one of the dinky looking flats, suburb-style.

"This is where you live?" Salima asks her 'friend'.

"Nope, it's Crusher's place."

The Ugliness rummages through the keys and open the door for us. I grab Mariah's hand and we walk in together. The flat is decorated in a way no one will expect a guy to live in. Creamy wallpapers, white couch, all sorts of tiny figurines.

"This is a girl's house," Mariah whispers.

"Yeah, I'm renting it," the Ugliness says, pushing us so that he can get through.

On a table, there is already a bottle of Champagne waiting with aperitif, as if they knew that there would be girls coming.

We slump on the couch. Enrique disappears into a corridor, probably leading to the bedroom, while the two other guys go in the kitchen. We hear the clinking of glasses.

"God, this is horrible! I have no idea where we are!" Mariah whines.

"It'll be alright. They're not going to do anything stupid," Salima tries to reassure her.

"Have you seen a subway station? How are we gonna get home?"

"This is not the moment to panic," I cut in. "You should have done so while we were still at the bar."

Before Mariah can answer, the guys are back.

"What's your name, by the way?" I ask the beige-haired guy as he pours Champagne for me.

"Miguel," he grins.

Okay, kill me. An unforgivable thought just passed my mind: he's not that bad.

"So, where did you learn your Chinese?"

He flushes.

"Well, I use to work in this Chinese shop and my boss told me that _chichi_ means thank you."

"I guess you've misunderstood."

It feels great to be able to carry a simple conversation with a guy on a night like this. Real comforting.

Enrique's back. Miguel stands up and goes to sit next to Salima. Somehow I feel regret. Enrique might be hot, but he's a terrible kisser and can only lead fuck-ful conversation. What a show-off. Enrique, I mean. He has unbuttoned his shirt, getting ready, I guess. Seriously he's ever so desperate. I feel partly sorry for him.

"So girls, what do you say?" he smiles down at me and Mariah. "I have enough energy for both of you."

Wow, I won't mind fucking Mariah but you? Huh, don't think so.

He runs his fingers across the curve of my breasts and they disappear into my bra. I stare blankly as he presses them.

Do whatever you want, mate. It doesn't have the slightest effect whatsoever. I want to tell him that, just to hurt his ego a little bit. But instead, I shove my tongue into his mouth. I feel his other hand trying to reach Mariah but it seems to fail so instead he wraps his arm around me. My hand finds his dick under his jeans already hard. A little work of hand job makes him squirm inside my mouth. He suddenly draws away, grabs my hand and pulls me towards the corridor.

One last glance at Mariah confirms that I've done it again. For the second time in four days, I'm entering a stranger's bedroom.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

Enrique throws me on the bed and pulls off my top. He then undresses himself. I seriously don't care to see his dick but well, we're here and this is what we're expected to do so I guess I'll go along with it. I rid myself out of my pants. The view of his dick urges me to go down on him. It's boring. Makes me feel like a job. But surprisingly he doesn't insist and quickly pulls me up again to stick his tongue down my throat. I run my hands across his lean back as he turns me over.

"Do you have a condom?"

I feel like saying lines from a script.

He pulls one from his pants pocket on the floor. He hastily puts it on, then wraps his arm around me again.

"That was the worst part," he smiles before blurring my vision with his lips again.

Then he withdraws his face away from mine and tries to penetrate. Sheer pain fills my head till I can barely breathe.

"No! It hurts," I groan.

"No, it doesn't you've got to let it in."

He shoves harder. I'm about to die. Bastard! I can't take this.

"You're blocking me. Stop blocking!"

"I can't!" I whine.

He pulls away.

"Come on, get on top. Maybe it'll be easier."

I sit on his dick and try to get it to fit. But of course, it won't. As I heave, my mind no longer works properly.

"There's. Something. I have. To. Tell you," I say between breath. "I'm lesbian."

He doesn't seem disturbed by the fact. Instead he throws me over and tries again.

"No, stop it!" I cry.

There is a knock on the door. I can hardly perceive the large form of Ugliness who pokes his head in. I don't even have the energy to be ashamed.

"Keep it quiet, won't you?" he hisses. "The neighbors will wake up."

Enrique suddenly widens my legs and ducks his head between my groins. I moan uncontrollably as I feel his tongue inside my vagina. A sudden memory of two autumns ago appears in my head. A girl, younger than me is doing the exact same thing Enrique is doing to me now. But the euphoria experienced in that memory is too strong for Enrique's mastery to match. I simply cannot do it with guys. No, I'm definitely lesbian.

Mariah suddenly barges in the room.

"Your mum's on the phone," she says.

Almost subconsciously I take the phone and mumble something in Japanese to reassure her. My mind is completely fucked-up but I think my answer is acceptable for she hang up soon enough.

Mariah is staring almost unblinkingly at Enrique. I furrow my eyebrow until I realize that she's looking not at his face nor his dick but at his hand.

"You're married," she says hoarsely.

"Yeah, and so what?"

I push Enrique off me and put my clothes back on. Thanks, Mariah, now I can escape.

The darkness of the living-room does not conceal two forms fucking on the sofa. I find Mariah and the Ugliness in the kitchen.

"He's married. The goddamn motherfucker is cheating on his wife," Mariah is complaining.

"Yeah, and with me," I say grimly.

"Are you okay?"

Mariah touches my arm lightly but she doesn't understand. I don't give a fuck whether he's already married or not. I feel blown away somehow, for not being able to accomplish pure, simple _sex_.

Enrique enters the room as I snatch a cigarette.

"Why didn't you tell us you're married?" Mariah counters him immediately.

He shrugs nonchalantly and picks up a cigarette as well.

"Why would you care? I just want to have fun."

"Have fun while your wife is waiting for you, at your house?"

"So? I'm in love with her. This doesn't mean anything."

The tone of his voice reveals something defiant.

Mariah stares at me for help, but I can't be bothered to care.

"I know I'm an asshole. I'm not asking for your judgment," Enrique suddenly says.

"Well, if you love your wife, you won't be here with girls," Mariah retorts silently.

"Hey, be quiet. The neighbors are sleeping," Crusher hisses.

"You can stop telling me what to do," Mariah raises a finger at him. "He won't let me in when I wanted to give you my phone. I screamed before he would let be in. Oh, and sorry by the way," she adds sheepishly.

"No problem," I reply between puffs. "It didn't work anyway."

Enrique is standing next to me so I can't see the expression on his face.

"He's the nicest guy here," I nod at Crusher. "He, at least, didn't do anything."

Crusher just shrugs off the compliment as if I was talking about flies. He pulls Mariah apart and says, "I need to talk to you for a second."

When they leave, Enrique and I continue to smoke in silence.

"Sorry it didn't work out," I say.

"I just wanted to have fun with you," he shakes his blonde head, looking at the floor. "It's stupid. And if you're really lesbian, you shouldn't come on guys like you did."

Is he reproaching me? I dart my eyes on him but I can't fathom what he's trying to say.

"I'm not looking for a relationship," I say blankly.

"Nor am I. I've already got a wife."

At that, he straightens up and walks out of the kitchen. I hear the front door slam.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5.

I hate being alone. I shudder at the emptiness and sits down on the dustbin. Yes, this is where I should be. I keep playing around, not considering that it might compromise the others. Enrique, I feel ashamed of not being able to answer to his needs when I did everything to turn him on. This is ridiculous. I shouldn't be sorry for what I did not do. I just feel like I'm tricking them but it isn't even fun.

This blocking problem, the truth staring at me, I can't pull myself to accept it. If I were really lesbian, how come I don't feel that I'm like those girls I see with short hair and bad sense of style? Why do I attract only men? I sigh.

Someone is screaming in another room.

Mariah.

I walk towards the bedroom and snatch the door open. Ugliness is gripping Mariah's wrists while she's trying to fight him off. I take her hand and leave with her. We head back to the kitchen. It's after all, the only free room.

"That guy is trying to get me in bed with him," Mariah moans.

"These desperates!" I grit my teeth. "No wonder I'm over men."

Mariah smiles a little.

"Where's Enrique anyway?"

"I don't know. He left."

"Did I hurt him? I hope I did because he was cheating on his wife."

"Yeah, well it's normal for guys."

"Hey, I didn't cheat on Rick!"

"You kissed Enrique."

"I was drunk!"

"Stop it! I don' see why you have to be loyal to someone you don't even love."

"Still. I don't want him to be sad."

"You're too nice," I shake my head.

We're sitting down on the floor. The clock says 4am.

"You know, I blocked him," I say."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Again. I don't know what's with me. Well, I _do_ know but it's hard to accept."

"Or maybe it's with the wrong guy."

"You're thinking about falling in love first, right?"

I shake my head again.

"You're too romantic for me. I'm unconscious of everything. I simply don't care about anything and I thought that I would be able to still fuck with guys though of course, my preference is with girls."

"Your first was a girl, right?"

I nod.

"Julia."

Mariah seems apprehensive.

"I've never loved her though. I feel like I can never love anyone."

At that moment, Miguel walks in. He has a smile on his face. Of course. What a lucky guy.

"Here comes the happy guy," Mariah smiles.

His smile widens, but his eyebrows knit when his gaze falls on me.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks, lowering himself next to me.

I shake my head.

"I just blocked your friend. I don't know what's with me. It's just- Maybe because I'm les-"

Suddenly his lips are on mine and I feel his tongue protrude deliciously into my mouth. Now this is what I call a good kisser. He leaves me breathless as he pulls away.

"Where's Enrique?" he asks Mariah.

"Gone. He left."

His dark eyebrows arch in surprise. He flips out his cell and starts dialing. Dialogues in Spanish. I can't stop thinking about the kiss. Salima walks in, equally happy. I'm such a bitch, aren't I? God, she's so lucky! Why did I jump on the hottest and most disgusting one?

"He wants to talk to you."

Miguel hands the phone to Mariah, much to my surprise. Well, actually no. She's made a scene with him, not me. I'm just the slut who utterly failed her job.

"Where's Crusher?" Miguel asks me.

"In the bedroom."

He nods, then smiles up to Salima.

When Mariah finishes with the phone, he takes it back then pulls himself and me up.

"Let's go to the living-room," he offers.

I don't even have to walk. He pulls me rapidly out of the room, into a burning embrace. God, this is amazing. His lips press firmly on mine and his hand grips my ass, pulling up against him. He wins over Enrique by miles.

Unfortunately we have to break off as soon as Mariah and Salima walk in. Guilty? No. Unsatisfied.

The three of us settle on the sofa. Miguel lays himself on the three of our laps. His head is nestles between my legs and Mariah.

I was wrong when I thought that he was the shy one.

His hand creeps up between my thighs and catches my pussy. I'm not following the conversation between Mariah and Salima. How can I? His big eyes look up at me, innocently. He's such a laugh. No, he's just as desperate as Enrique. But their tactics are different. Tomorrow he can boast of winning two out of three. I just let him. I have no conscious after all.

My eyes are drooping.

"You've got to go to sleep!"

Miguel hurls me up once again and pulls me to the bedroom.

I just can't believe this.

I barely make out Crusher sleeping on one side of the bed because once out of sight, Miguel immediately glue his lips on me. We can't stop turning, changing sides, as if we were long-lost lovers finally meeting up after a century of chaste. Or is it simply excitement urging us to fuse as quickly as possible? Gain as much territory on the other as possible.

He ducks his hand inside my jeans. I untie the button. Once again I find my self on the bed, next to Crusher. Miguel takes off his pants and, before doing anything else, licks my pussy. I groan, trying to find something to hold on, finding only his thick hair.

He replaces his tongue by his dick. I immediately know it's going to end.

"You're not going to make it," I whisper faintly in his ears, as he pushes it inside.

"Oh, yes, I will."

The same painful sensation electrifies me. I can't take it. No matter how hot the kiss, the vibrations he sends through my body, I cannot to it with… the opposite sex.

"Let's try it another day."

That sentence translates my hope, if not my desire to see him again. To share this insane fuck once again. Love? No. Dissatisfaction? Probably. He doesn't insist and withdraw. I feel a blanket being put over me.

Before I fall asleep, a humorous thought occurs within me. Here we are how we're meant to be at the beginning: Miguel with Salima, Mariah still loyal to Rick, Enrique back to his wife and, most unfortunately, me and Crusher. If it starts out like this, nothing as insane would have happened.

One night only. Tomorrow, I will never see them again.


End file.
